


Myriad Skies

by DownToTheSea



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Canon, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27363982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DownToTheSea/pseuds/DownToTheSea
Summary: Balthamos has a question for Baruch.
Relationships: Balthamos/Baruch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Myriad Skies

**Author's Note:**

> One of my Discord servers has a mini-prompt event going, and this was inspired by one of them for "Playing with hair." (I actually wrote something fluffy for these two!!)

While it was true that their lives involved strife and pain (copious amounts thereof, Balthamos would say in his caustic tones), often, wonderfully often, it was just like this: together somewhere quiet, surrounded by the peaceful landscape of another world.

Balthamos had entirely given up any pretense of enjoying the sights, content to lie curled up on his side while Baruch carded his fingers through his hair. He was humming unconsciously and very tunelessly under his breath. Balthamos had not been part of the angelic choirs.

The never-ending spring of fondness for him bubbled up in Baruch once again. He twisted another strand around his finger, watching the moonlight reflecting off it, before smoothing it back down against Balthamos’s ear.

“You seem contemplative tonight.” Balthamos turned to look up at him. The wing he’d been lying on, now free, stretched languidly.

“I was thinking.”

“Your tendency to do so is one of your finer qualities.”

Baruch laughed and touched his cheek. Angels lacked corporeal forms; right now, to a human observer, they would appear as little more than faintly glowing outlines with barely a suggestion of features. But to each other, they were solid and living.

“I was thinking,” he said, “how glad I am to be with you, and to be able to see you like this.”

Balthamos smiled, but there was a shade of sadness in his eyes. “Do you ever miss it?” he asked after a pause.

“Miss what?”

“Being human. Feeling the sun on your face. All of those… sensations.” Human sensations that Balthamos had never felt, though he never seemed to harbor any jealousy over it. They were only curiosities to him: sometimes pleasant, often confusing, interesting to experience through Baruch’s memories, but nothing more. He would have passed up the human experience a thousand times over in favor of the love they shared, and in that regard, Baruch had discovered, he was rather unusual amongst angels.

“I can still feel them,” Baruch said. “Only… muted. As if I was feeling it through something else, or in a dream.”

Balthamos propped himself up on an elbow, gazing at him. “And that never troubles you?”

“Sometimes,” Baruch said truthfully. “Though less and less as time goes by. And there were things I missed as a human, too, you know.” He went back to stroking Balthamos’s hair. “I couldn’t see you, I couldn’t feel your mind as I do now. I could touch you, but it was…”

“Difficult when you couldn’t see where you were going, and might try to take my hand only to elbow me in the wing?”

“Just so,” Baruch said, lips twitching.

“I never minded. You were trying; that was all that mattered.”

Baruch leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I gave up some things, it’s true,” he mused, “but I gained so much more. You, an eternity with you, our connection; my wings. As a human I was trapped in so many ways, but you gave me the whole sky, millions of them. And now I have the chance to do real good, more than I ever did before. So, dear Balthamos, if you’re asking me if I shall ever regret my choice or resent you for carrying it out, the answer is no. I never will.”

Balthamos was melting, but he made one final plea. “If there should ever come a time when you  _ do…” _

“I can tell you. I know. I will not have to, but I do know.” Baruch smiled at him. “Are you content?”

“When I am with you, my dear, always. In this particular matter… I trust you,” Balthamos said finally, and meant it. “As long as you are happy, that will be more than enough for me.”

His hand drifted up; Baruch pressed their fingertips together, and gentle silence descended once more.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Million Skies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405583) by [bene_elim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bene_elim/pseuds/bene_elim)




End file.
